Highway don't care (phan)
by luvme123
Summary: First Phan oneshot, so.. yeah.. Based off of Tim McGraw's Highway don't care, Phil takes off after a fight with Dan and Dan feels guilty, ect.. Long story short, Phil crashes his car. And Dan rushes to the hospital. I do not own Highway don't care by Tim McGraw, or anything else in the fic. T for mentions of boyXboy, but nothing smutty


**So, this is indeed a Phanfic... I'm sorts new to the whole Phan thing, so... take 'er easy on me. Enjoy..?**

_I bet you've got your windows rolled down and your hair pulled back,_

_ I bet you you've got no idea you'e goin' way too fast, _

_tryin' not to think about what went wrong, _

_tryin' not to stop 'till you get where you're goin', _

_you're tryin' not to sleep so you turn on the radio, and the song goes, _

_I can't live without you, I can't live without you, baby,_

_ I can't live without you, I can't live without you, baby, baby,_

Phil drove down the London streets and onto the over pass leading towards the highway to Manchester, running a hand messily through his dark hair. He just needed a break after the fight him and Dan had earlier. Though, actually, he couldn't quite remember what they fought about. Or, rather, he just didn't want to. It still tore his heart to pieces, though, as he repeatedly checked his cell, only to see it was dieing along with his heart. Ugh, why was he such a girl sometimes, being so sappy.

Turning on the radio with a shaky breath, he speeds up as he wonders what his boyfriend and roommate was up to. Probably celebrating his departure. The thought of that made him sick to his stomach. He and Dan would make up eventually, right?

_The highway won't hold you tonight, _

_The highway don't know you're alive, _

_The highway don't care if you're all alone, _

_But I do, I do,_

Meanwhile, Dan was in their common room, trying to take his mind off of Phil, who'd taken off to Manchester for a few days. He'd be back before Sunday, or at least Dan hoped. Why'd he let him go? He knew Phil had horrible driving skills; he might rear-end someone or something. Or worse.

_The highway won't dry your tears, _

_The highway don't need you here, _

_The highway don't care if you're comin' home, _

_But I do, I do,_

Shaking off his horrible mental images, Dan hops in the shower, the Pandora aplication on his computer blaring full blast through the empty flat. Phil was probably talking to nobody, just ranting to himself in the car like somebody was listening. He chuckled slightly, hopping out of the shower and dressing in workout clothes as he thinks of Phil yelling at the top of his lungs sadistically. But his smile fades as he jumps to work lifting the heaviest thing he could find in the flat.

_I betcha you got a dead cell phone in your shotgun seat, _

_I bet you you're bending God's ear talkin' 'bout me, _

_Tryin' not to let your first tear fall out, _

_Tryin' not to think about turnin' around,_

_Tryin' not to get lost in the sound, but the song is always on, so you sing along,_

_I can't live without you, I can't live without you, baby,_

_I can't live without you, I can't live without you, baby, baby, _

Phil was looking at his phone again as it left two percent to one percent. Still no text from Dan. He'd forgotten his charger in his rush to get out of the house. He'd forgotten everything but his phone, actually, in rush to escape the awkwardness. His mind had cometely blanked. Quickly stopping at a coffee shop, Phil tries not to cry again, dropping five pounds on the counter and telling the barista his order. The barista brings the pale boy his coffee and he instantly hops out the door, yelling to keep the change.

He was on the road again, humming along to the melody of a sad song like he was before, but louder this time. He checks his cell again only to find it dead, so he tosses it towards the passenger seat, imagining all the times Dan would call shotgun when he actually let Phil drive to the station. Even though it was just the two of them.

The phone slips to the floor, and Phil looks to the empty road before trying to grab it, with no luck. Looking at the road, Phil tries to grab the phone again, swerving a little, as he again reaches for the cell phone. He reaches again, successfully grabing the phone, as he swerves off the road, flipping the car. There, on the side of the road, Phils life flashes before his eyes, as he lay there, slipping in and out of conciousness, as the blaring sound of sirens blared too noisily through his ears and friendly looking paramedics lifted him into the ambulance.

One of the para's took Phils phone from the ground near where he previously lay, and shakes her head as she plugs it into a universal charger so she could get to his contacts.

_The highway won't hold you tonight, _

_The highway don't know you're alive, _

_The highway don't care if you're all alone, _

_But I do, I do, _

Dan was pulling a shirt on again when he got the phone call he was hoping for. It was from Phil. It was a little early for him to be in Manchester already, maybe he was calling to say he was turning around..?

"Hey, Phil, I'm-" Dan starts, but a womans voice had started to speak.

"Hello, this is Antoinita Ramone, a paramedic at St. Lucia hospital, is this Dan? We saw you were listed as Mr. Phillip Lester's emergency contact and are calling with bad news." The woman says. Dans heart rips in half as the woman continues. "You are Dan, correct?"

"Y-yeah, this is Dan... What happened to Phil?" Dan asks, turning Pandora down to barely a whisper.

"...There's been an accident."

_The highway won't dry your tears, _

_the highway don't need you here, _

_the highway don't care if you're comin' home, _

_but I do, I do,_

Dan was in the hospital corridor, tears falling restlessly on his cheeks as a doctor walks out, calling his name. Dan stands, looking anxious as the doctor approaches him with a blank expression.

"There's a lot of things wrong with Phillip, Mr. Howell." The doctor sighs, looking Dan in the eyes. Dan lets the tears fall more, looking at the tall doctor with fear he might lose Phil. "You didn't let me finish; there are a lot of things wrong with Phillip, but, they are fixable. A concussion, a sprained ankle, a banged up wrist, but, your friend will be able to come home after he signs some insurance papers. You can go in and see him now, if you'd like."

The doctor points to a room and Dan enters, but not before giving the doctor a watery hug and being handed the cracked-up black cell phone that Antoinita had called him from, half-charged. Phil was laying in bed slightly, a jittery look in his eye as a nurse finished plastering his wrist. The nurse leaves as soon as she sees Dan, a glint of something in her eye as she walks past him, giving a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

"Dan, I-" Phil starts, about to apologise as Dan wraps him in a tight, hesitant, hug. Phil chuckles, tears welling up in his eyes as he hugged tightly back, resting his head in the crook of Dans neck.

"Don't." Dan whispers, sniffling, as they pull apart from their hug. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let you go. I wanted to apologise earlier, but you left, and I didn't want to upset you more by following you, but I wish I had now. I thought you were dead, when that doctor came out with his stupid poker face, and then he said you had a lot of things wrong with you and I thought the worst. Oh, God, I feel like the worst person in the world!"

_I can't live without you, I can't live without you, baby,_

_I can't live without you, I can't live without you, baby, oh baby,_

Phil smiles a teary smile as he hugs Dan again, kissing him softly on the cheek as another nurse comes in and hands him a clip board filled with insurance papers. They finish the papers together, limping out to Dans hastily parked car apologsing to each other non-stop. Finally, before Dan could start the car, Phil takes Dans face with his good hand and kisses him roughly on the lips.

"You can quit apologising now."

_Highway don't care, _

_Highway don't care, _

_highway don't care, _

_I can't live without you, _

_I can't live without you, baby..._


End file.
